


The Seamstress and the Spaniard

by f0rever15elf



Series: The Seamstress [2]
Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Food mention, Oral Sex, Pedro Pascal - Freeform, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, soft!pero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f0rever15elf/pseuds/f0rever15elf
Summary: Years after Pero elects to settle down with you, an unexpected storm leaves you both by the fire for an intimate night of sweetmeats and loving.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Pero Tovar/You
Series: The Seamstress [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976128
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	The Seamstress and the Spaniard

The changing of the seasons brings with it many things. It brings new life, new loss, new love. It sees the turning of the leaves and the chilling of the winds. It sees children grow and laugh, and it sees parents grow old. It brings with it the joy of the cries of a newborn child, and the weeping of those left behind by a passed loved one. Time stops for no one and nothing, always moving forward. And time is what brought your lover, your warrior from a far away land, your Spaniard, to you.

Several summers have passed since you pleaded with Pero Tovar the sellsword to stay with you under your roof, to not go riding off into the horizon for a third time and taking your heart with him. Several summers have passed since he claimed you as his and he as yours. William and Mary’s daughter is walking now, and talking. A feat which Pero makes great use of as he teaches the brilliant girl ways to mess with her father. The days are spent tutoring her or teaching her your craft when she isn’t working with Pero or her father on honing her fighting skills. Mary wasn’t exactly pleased the day Pero put a stick in her daughter’s hand to play sword fight with him, but there was little to be done about it now that the girl had taken to it like a horse to running, terrorizing the other village kids her age with her awesome skill. Pero was a very proud godfather.

Pero had managed to make a life for himself here with you with brilliant ease, taking up work for the local butcher to help in the trapping and butchering of wild game for his shop. He would get to keep some of his kills as part of his pay, and you had never before had a diet so rich in meat. “Only the best for you, _mi alma_ ,” he would murmur as he places a gentle kiss upon your head after your happy exclamation upon seeing the fresh meat.

Your Spaniard takes care of you in a way you hadn’t known since you were very young; helping to draw water and chop fire wood, running errands when you were busy babysitting your goddaughter, even acting as your model when you got a little adventurous with your sewing, though he grumbled about it the whole time about he didn’t want you to stick him with the pin you used to hold the fabric together.

“Is my poor Spaniard afraid of needles?” you would chide playfully, grinning up at him as he scowled and huffed like some inconvenienced toddler. You would chuckle as he mumbled in his mother tongue before standing on tip-toe to peck his cheek, your chest swelling with pride as the scowl faded and the tips of his ears flushed pink in embarrassment. You found he loved these little affections, though he would be the absolute last to admit such a thing. It was okay though, he didn’t have to say it out loud for you to be able to read it clear as day in his eyes. Eyes no less beautiful or hypnotic than the day that he sat at your hearth and bandaged your hand after you pricked it sewing his cloak. Your heart is so full of him, you can’t begin to imagine a day where you will no longer have him.

_Mi alma_ , he called you. “What does it mean?” you whispered in the dark of your shared bed the first time those musical words spilled from his angel-kissed lips.

“My soul,” he murmured as his strong arms hold you to him, keeping you safe from the dark of the night and the chill of winter. Your heart felt as though it would pound from your chest and you felt your cheeks grow hot. Your eyes drifted up to his, twinkling in the light of the moon pouring through the window.

“ _Mi alma,”_ you repeated to him, cupping his cheek gently as you pulled his lips to yours for a tender kiss.

Tonight is a cold one, winter having rushed in far more quickly than anyone was expecting and it left you chilled to the bone as you were caught in the sudden storm without your furs or rain cloak. When you had returned soaked to the bone and shivering from what was suppose to be a quick trip to the market for some potatoes, Pero panicked, hoisting you into his arms to bring you to the fire to warm yourself. From his trunk he pulled his winter tunic and breeches before helping you to rid yourself of your own soaked garment before changing you into his clothes. Clothes you had stitched for him yourself. He pulled the winter furs from their storage basket, laying them over the floor by the fire before grabbing the down pillows he had spent the past several seasons hunting to fill. He had saved up for some luxury fabric from a traveling merchant who always came through and you sewed and filled them, one of the first things you made together. After everything had been laid out, he sat and pulled you to him, cradling you as the first winter storm of the year howled outside your window, bemoaning the loss of summer.

This burly former mercenary sits with you now, your back against his chest as you watch the fire crackling strongly in the hearth, flames dancing in that magical way only fire can. His hips cradle your own, his arms around your mid section as his hands smooth over the fabric of your, or rather, his tunic. Your head rests on his shoulder, and occasionally his lips find the skin of your ear, your cheek, your jaw as he lavishes feather light kisses there, unable to help himself. “Pero,” you whisper, and he hums against the hollow behind your ear as he focuses his affections there. “Tell me of your travels, _amante_.” He lifts his head only slightly to look down at you, seeing your eyes focused on the flames of the fire that lick up the flue.

“What is it you would like to hear?”

“Tell me of how you met William. The two of you are close as brothers, I should like to know how the two of you met.”

Pero is quiet for a moment, looking into the fire as he thinks back on all those years ago. “It was long ago. I was young, full of fire and spirit to fight, and he was newly come into his membership to the band of sellswords to which we both belonged for a time. He had been sold to them as a child, nearly a slave. It was the only life he knew. As for me, the mercenaries found me when I was about fifteen, stealing and fighting to survive. But it was not until I neared twenty that I finally met him. We drew lots for a mission to rob a wealthy merchant that was passing through our territory, and it ended up being he and I. A good pair, an archer and a swordsman. It was suppose to be an easy mission, really. Stop the merchant, threaten him, and escape with the money and some of his merchandise to keep as our own.” His arm tightens around your midsection, pulling you closer to him and you lay your own hand over his to soothe him.

“Things do not always go as planned, _amor_. The merchant was smart and had guardsmen. I was foolish and overconfident and I made a mistake. And for this I bear the mark upon my face.” You look up to him, concern in your eyes as he continues to recount, watching the blaze. “William saved my life that day. From his position in the trees, he took out the guards before coming to drag me back to my horse. We did not get the money, but he earned my respect that day. Ever since, we have chosen to pair together whenever necessary, until we left the mercenary group together to take up jobs wherever we could to make our living.” He glances at you from the corner of his eye to see you looking up at him, and he smirks.

“I imagine this is not the romantic tale you desired, no?”

You give him a small smile and shake your head. “I did not expect it to be romantic, but now I know I must thank William. Without him I would not have you here by my hearth.” He hums in agreement, nodding before pulling back just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. You giggle at the affection before turning your head once more to face the fire, content with silence now as he cradles you against him.

Outside, the wind continues to howl long into the night, rain pounding against the shutters and roof which only aids to make the fire that much more inviting. Pero resumes his little ministrations, nuzzling into your hair. “ _Mi amor,”_ he mumbles, kissing at your hair which had finally dried.

“Hmmm?” you reply sleepily, content to fall asleep just as you were, cradled in the arms of your Spaniard.

“I have a surprise for you.” His nose nuzzles into your hair further, breathing you in as his fingers trace circles over your tunic.

You chuckle, turning your head against his shoulder just enough to see him. “Is that so?” He hums in acknowledgment before tilting his head just enough for his lips to brush yours, the ghost of a kiss.

“I have been saving up for this for you. Let me go get it.” He kisses your cheek once more before carefully scooting back enough to stand. You take this opportunity to add another log to the fire before laying down on the furs and removing your breeches so you are dressed only in his tunic and your undergarments. The shine in his eyes from the firelight as he comes back, a burlap package wrapped in twine in his hands, makes you smile. Whenever he looked at you, that light was always there. He adored you, everything about you. Even when he grumbled to you, that shine was still there, and it made your heart race every time without fail.

He sits beside you, laying down and propping himself up on his elbow as he hands you the package. A small smile lifts the side of his lips as you take it, eyes wide with excitement. “What’s this?” you murmur, setting it down to tug at the knot keeping the little package together.

“Something I know you will enjoy,” he replies, and you flash him a smile before carefully opening up the burlap. The little gasp that escapes your lips as you see the beautifully delicate treats only causes his smile to widen as he watches you, your joy his own. “You always talk about these sweetmeats when we walk past them in the market,” he says, his hand coming to rest on your hip, thumb rubbing against the thin fabric of your undergarments gently.

“Pero, they’re so beautiful. These…these must have cost you a small fortune.” You look up at him with glassy eyes, so full of love and his hand moves from your hip to your cheek, cupping it gently.

“Only the best for you, _mi alma_. _Sol_ _a_ _mente lo mejor._ ” You shiver at the sound of his mother tongue that falls so effortlessly from his lips, sweet as the nectar from the honeysuckle.

“I don’t know which to try first.” He smiles at you, hand leaving your cheek to pick up a small fig that looked to be filled with something, holding it to your lips. You smile as you take it from him, your lips brushing over his fingers. You do not miss the small whisper of a moan that draws from him, and you continue to smile, letting out your own little moan at the sweetness of the nutty filling of the date. Your eyes flutter shut as you savor the flavor before swallowing, looking back at Pero who stares at you like a man starved stares at his first meal. You grin, picking up a small dark brown piece of cake that smells strongly of ginger and cinnamon, holding up to his lips the way he did to you.

“ _Amor_ , these treats are for you to enjoy,” he protests, but you shake your head, still propped up on your elbow.

“I will enjoy these more if we enjoy them together, my love.” Your heart swells as his ears tinge pink again before he opens his lips for you, taking the piece of spiced cake in his mouth. He could never say no to you. “Well?” you ask after he’s finished it, a smile on your lips.

“Almost the most delicious thing I have ever tasted, _amor_.” His smile is playful as he stares back at you.

“Is that so?” You rub your foot against his leg and he wastes no time tangling his legs with yours as he leans in closer. “Pray tell what the most delicious thing you have ever tasted is?”

Pero’s eyes grow hungrier, darker with a deep burning desire that sends a pleasant chill down your spine. “ _Mi amor,”_ he nearly growls, the sound low in his throat as his voice drops in pitch. “Of all the pleasurable things I have tasted in this life, nothing compares to the taste of you.”

The sound of his voice, the hand that slowly slips under your tunic to brush the skin of your side, the look of such desperate _desire_ in his eyes as he watches you in the firelight draws a moan from you that you didn’t have a prayer of hiding, your eyes slipping shut. They remain that way as you feel his lips on yours, hungry for everything that is you as his hand grips your hip with a little more force. You groan into the kiss, reaching up to lay your hand on his stubbly cheek, only to have the groan turn to a whimper when he nibbles at your bottom lip. He tries to draw you closer to him, but you quickly brace your hand on his chest, pulling back for just a moment as he looks at you confused. _“Amor?”_ he asks softly, voice tinged with want.

“You spent such good money on these, I’d hate to ruin them in a fit of passion.” You smile as you look down at the package of sweetmeats that your lover so thoughtfully purchased still laying between you. He grumbles, quickly tying the package up before setting it up on the bench behind him. When he rolls back over, you waste no time in pressing up against him, hands finding his thick locks as you press your lips to his in a heady, desperate kiss. His arm winds around your waist, pulling you flush against him and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of him already so hard pressing against your stomach. You rolls your hips just enough to cause a bit of friction in his breeches and he growls against your lips, slowly rolling you onto your back as he hovers over you, lips still pressed against yours as your arms drape around his neck. He lays himself against you, careful to not allow all of his body weight to lay on you, but desperate to feel you as close to him as he can.

Your hand slowly creeps down between your bodies, palming him through his breeches and he bucks into your touch before grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing across your knuckles. “ _Mi alma_ , let me take care of you tonight.” Those dark eyes swirling with so much emotion once again capture you and all you can do is nod, relaxing into the down pillow beneath your head. Pero smiles that lopsided smile he has and presses another kiss to your knuckles before claiming your lips once more. You allow your eyes to flutter shut as you revel in the feeling of his weight against you. Never one to linger, his lips travel down your jaw, his mustache tickling against your skin as he works down to your neck, nipping at the skin before laving over the small marks with his tongue in the way that drew such melodious moans from your lips as you press up against his body.

A hand dips below your tunic as he lifts himself from you to slide the fabric up your body, smirking down at you as you bemoan the loss of his weight and warmth against you. “Patience, _hermossa_. I will take care of you.” You nod, a small pout on your lips as you sit slightly to let him rid you of his tunic before laying back down. Slowly, he rights himself, straddling your hips on his knees as he gazes down at you with a look of pure adoration and lust. You lay there for him, arms splayed against the pillow by your head, your hair a mess as you gaze up at him with hooded eyes. “How is it I came to belong to a creature as marvelous as you? What have I done for Fate to smile upon me so that I may see this beauty underneath me?” His words of praise bring a heat to your cheeks and you turn your head slightly as a wave of shyness overtakes you, but he is having none of that. His hand gently cups your cheek, turning your gaze back to him.

“There is no need to shy from me, _mi alma_.” He gives you a gentle smile as he leans over to kiss you, running his hands up your sides to rest just under your breasts. The touch sends another shiver rocketing through your body, and your need for him grows, the heat pooling in your undergarments. His teeth nibble at your bottom lip and you open for him, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with your own, pulling a lusty moan from your throat that he eagerly swallows. His hands move up a bit further to play over your breasts, squeezing them gently in his palms. The rough callouses that cover his hands rub pleasantly against the supple skin, and he groans as he feels your nipples hardening under his ministrations.

Quickly, he sits up again, all but ripping his tunic from his own body before shuffling down yours so his face hovers over your chest. “So beautiful,” he murmurs. “So perfect.” Then his lips are lavishing your breasts with kisses, drifting back and forth between them, taking the hardened buds of your nipples between his teeth, grazing over them lightly. You arch into his mouth, hands tangling in his hair as you let out little gasps and mewls of pleasure. Pero is a man of few words with nearly all but you, but in the confines of your home, his mouth is capable of the most wondrous and lewd things you have ever experienced. It isn’t long before you are whimpering his name, begging for more as the heat at your center grows unbearable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your undergarments by now, and that suspicion is confirmed after Pero kisses down your stomach to them, chuckling at what he finds.

“You are already so wet for me _, hermossa_. So ready for me, _s_ _í_?” You whimper and nod at his words, trembling in anticipation and he takes the hem of your undergarments between his teeth, tugging them down before tugging them off your legs and tossing them God only knows where in the room. He settles between your legs, his warm breath ghosting over your feverish flesh in the most beautiful of ways. He nuzzles your curls drawing another whimper from you before he moves down, parting your lips just enough before running his tongue lightly from your center to your clit, swirling his tongue around it in the way that makes you squirm and gasp. He lays an arm across your hips to hold you down as he licks and sucks at you, the sinful moans coming from his lips sending a pleasurable tingle through you as he relishes the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He shakes his head earning a gasp from you as you try to buck your hips, but his arm holds you firmly in place. When he slowly eases a finger into you, your back arches and you _keen_ , loving the pleasure his finger brings but so desperately craving more. His mouth focuses on your clit, his dark eyes watching your body writhing in the pleasure he showers you with as he adds a second finger, stretching you further, preparing you for what was to come.

“Pero, oh pleases Pero, I’m so close,” you whine, your hands finding his hair once more, carding through it as your back arches. When he finds that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars, you scream out his name. Your cries of pleasure are lost to the howling winds in the night, not a worry in the world of being heard as you succumb to your throws of pleasure. Pero sees how tightly drawn your muscles are, and urges you ever closer to that point of your release, as desperate to taste your euphoria on his tongue as you are to tip over that precipice of pleasure. Experimentally, he grazes his teeth over your clit as he taps that glorious spot inside of you and you come undone, spilling into his mouth as your hands fly to your face. He works you through it, continuing to thrust his fingers into you until your body falls back against the furs underneath you. Only then does he slowly draw his fingers from you, sitting up on his heels as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean while he keeps his eyes locked with yours in the most lewdly intimate of acts.

“The most delicious thing I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. The nectar of the gods would pale in comparison, _mi amor_.” You move your hands from your feverish face, slowly sitting up as you try to catch your breath, cupping Pero’s face in your hands. You bring your lips to his, moaning at the taste of yourself on his lips and he brings and hand to the back of your neck, holding you to him as he throbs in his breeches, his own desperation growing. “I need you,” he growls against your lips and you moan, your walls fluttering in anticipation at the sound of his voice.

Lips still pressed to yours, he slowly lowers you back to the furs as your hands slide down his sides, tracing over his scars till you find the hem of his breeches, begging silently for him to rid himself of them. And he does. Sitting up again, he quickly rids himself of the offending article before laying himself back between your legs. He lines himself up with your entrance before pressing his forehead to yours as he slowly sinks himself inside of you. His jaw goes slack with the pleasure of feeling you hot and tight around him and you groan from the stretch. One hand interlocks with yours, pressing it back against the furs as he keeps his forehead to yours, pants of desire brushing over your face.

After keeping still for as long as he is able, he slowly withdraws before sinking back into you with such an intimate slowness it makes your head spin. His moans are soft and heady as he sets a slow, strong rhythm, hips pressing your firmly against the furs as he makes love to you with such intense passion in every thrust. It isn’t long before you’re crying his name like a prayer, chanting it over and over as tears of pleasure brim in your eyes and spill over. He quickly kisses them away as he slowly picks up momentum.

“ _Te amo, mi amor,”_ he groans, sweat beading on his brow that shines in the light of the fire. He looks like some sort of god as he hovers over you, pleasuring you in a way you have never felt before, drawing sounds from you that you never thought possible for you to make. He drinks them in, your symphony of noises, his head spinning in euphoria as he listens to you. His name on your lips sounds like the most beautiful thing he has ever heard as you cry it out in pleasure. He grunts, thrusting quicker, moving his other hand down to snake between your bodies to rub that little bundle of nerves again, smirking as your body arches off the floor to flush against him. “ _Te. Amo. Te. Adoro.”_ He breathes it, chants it over and over, accentuated with each and every thrust against you as you babble incoherently beneath him. He wouldn’t last, he wouldn’t. He wants to feel you come undone around him, so he speeds up the circles against your clit, the pleasured scream from you going straight to his cock as it sinks into you over and over. “Let go, _amor._ Let go for me,” he pleads you, voice drawn tight with strain as he presses his forehead to yours. He _needs_ to feel you.

Once, twice, thrice more he thrust into you, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the cottage, mingling with your pants and cries of pleasure when suddenly the coil in your stomach snaps. Your eyes screw tightly shut as your mouth hangs open in a silent scream of pleasure, legs locking around Pero’s waist. Your walls clamp down around his cock and he swears in his mother tongue, his hips stuttering for just a moment before slamming into you a final time as his own orgasm overtakes him and he spills inside you, hips pressed firmly against your own. He groans and captures your lips with his again as his hips give little thrusts through the aftershocks of his euphoria. You whimper against his lips, the tears of pleasure still staining your cheeks.

Slowly, your body relaxes, your legs falling to the furs as you pant to catch your breath. Pero slowly pulls himself from you, hissing softly at the feeling before grabbing your discarded undergarments and using them to wipe you clean. He gently kisses the tears from your cheeks and you lay there against the soft furs and fluffy pillows as he cares for you, absolutely boneless with such adoration in the eyes you are barely able to keep open. Pero leans in and kisses you sweetly before he stands to grab the hand sewn blankets, bringing them to you. He lays beside you again, pulling you against his chest with one arm before laying the blanket over you both. Gentle fingers brush any wayward hair from your face before he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead that you return with a kiss to his chest.

“Are you alright, _mi alma?_ ” he whispers, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal as he cradles you against him in the warmth and glow of the fire. You nod lazily against him, a hazy smile on your face.

“I am. That was amazing, Pero.” You use the last bit of the strength you have to look up at him and lay a kiss on his jaw. “I love you. So much.”

“And I you,” he murmurs, tilting his head just enough to press his lips against yours once more, so full of love and adoration. “ _Todo de mi coraz_ _ó_ _n esta contigo.”_

“Hmmm?” you question sleepily, quickly fading in the comfort and safety of your lover’s arms.

“All of my heart is with you,” he whispers against your hair, nuzzling into it.

“And mine with you,” you return, words slurred as your eyes slip closed, the comfortable embrace of sleep taking you.

Pero lays there, a blissful smile on his face and he holds you sleeping in his arms. His life, his world, his soul. _His everything._


End file.
